


The Janitor and The Trashman

by MissC3PO



Category: WALL-E (2008)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Break Up, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Mild Smut, Multi, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, Wolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21660478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissC3PO/pseuds/MissC3PO
Summary: It's been three long years since the Axiom landed on Earth.Three long years of rebuilding human civilization.And three years that Mo has been wondering what is life truly about.Human!AU
Relationships: EVE/Ruth, M-O/WALL-E
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Cherry on a Pina Colada

It was only three years since civilization started back up on Earth. Three years since the Axiom landed on Earth’s pollution scarred surface. Three hard years, full of start overs, set backs, and advances. Not all in that order, the order really doesn’t matter. 

But back to what I, the narrator was saying. 

It has been three hard years since people came back to Earth. Illnesses took many, alongside accidents caused by the haphazardly stacked bricks of garbage that towered above the seven hundred year old skyscrapers. 

Scavenging was one of the few jobs that took place in those years. Finding things to use for building, farming, anything. Currency was a thing of the past. If you wanted something, you would trade. That’s why markets popped up all across the land. You wanted a pepper? Then bring a battery with you. You want a whole pepper plant? Offer up everything you own. 

Society wasn’t all dystopian. There was some light in the darkness. Small towns were built, houses lining up down streets that in the California sunsets looked as if they were paved with gold. These little towns added civil to civilization. 

It was a warm rainy day in Emeryville, California. How the town’s name was known was by the rusted sign nearby which begged for repainting. The town had everything. Houses, schools, a few little farms, a town hall and more. A market place was at the outskirts of the town, dark and dusty compared to the neatness of the town. The town was right by the bay, where anyone could look over and see the glistening ocean, which was slowly becoming more and more cleaner each passing day. 

The sun wasn’t seen in the sky that day, due to the light grey clouds overhanging the town. Fresh, cool rain fell, washing away more of the grim from the town. And there really wasn’t much grime to clean. 

And who’s fault is that? The fault lays on a short little man, a janitor of sorts. Now I introduce you to Mo, the prissy, clean man who prides himself on making the streets of Emeryville glisten like gold leaf every sunset. A cleaning machine, that little man was. He cleaned most of the day, and night he would rest, and get ready to clean again. That was his life, every second. 

“Boring, doesn't it seem that way?” the man mumbled, mopping the streets with a mop he saved from the Axiom. It was his pride and joy, that little mop. The mop, the profession that made him. The reason he made it on the Axiom. Being an orphan didn’t offer much, minus menial jobs that force you to watch other children enjoying life with their parents. Mo luckily proved to be a strong, efficient worker, thus making it that he was able to choose his job. 

He could have been anything, anything! An explorer of Earth, looking for life, like Eve. A salon manager. Anything! But he chose to be a janitor. 

And he was fine with that. He was a clean freak, and he got to fight on the frontlines against dirt and grime. That was life for Mo.

One good thing about returning to Earth was that Mo’s job became a lot more challenging. And a whole lot more fun. 

Well, minus a certain someone always seeming to make a mess out of everything. Including Mo’s fine work. 

“Hiya there Mo!” A cheery, higher toned masculine voice called out. It was nearing the end of the day, and Mo was expecting this. But it wasn’t something he liked. 

From the corner of his eye, Mo saw a little taller man trotting down the street, his shaggy brown hair covering half of his face. A dirty, never-have-been-washed-in-700-years trench coat hung loosely off his shoulders, bearing grime and grit that covered yellow safety stripes on the sleeves. The man trotted up to Mo, smiling like a supermodel. If supermodels wore dirty khakis and a tank top that may have been white in the past. Oh, and those ugly, dusty, dirty, mud tracking, grime trapping boots.

Mo’s sworn enemy, his kryptonite. The bane of his existence. The boots.

“How have you been, buddy?” That cheery voice was starting to get to Mo, but the janitor was not going to let it. 

“Hello, Wallace,” Mo mumbled, furiously mopping the glossy concrete street like his life depended on it. He didn’t dare look up, eye contact only fed that ravenous attention whore that the man was. He kept him in his peripheral vision, still keeping his focus on the street. 

“The name is Wally,” the man said, saying his name with long syllables, dragging it out. 

Mo just mopped around the man, sweeping away what dirt the trashman tracked onto Mo’s precious street. He didn’t even look up to the man, or acknowledge him. 

A few people walked by, eyeing the two and laughing. One tossed a wrapper aside, the wind picking it up and having it gently rest on the middle of the street. 

“Mine.” both of the men said, looking each other dead in the eye. They lunged at the litter, fighting tooth and claw for it. Mo clawed at Wally’s face and arms, but the trashman had a good grip on the litter. Mo forgot that Wally was a whole lot stronger than one may think. 

“Must of been from all that work he’s done for years,” Mo growled to himself.

That was until Mo realized that Wally’s grime was getting on him. Mo jumped up, a grunt emitting from his throat. He stepped away from Wally, who was working on getting off the wet ground. The rain was starting to fall harder, soaking the Mo to the bone through his white jumpsuit. He noticed that the person who dropped the trash and their possy were staring at Mo and Wally, laughing. One was also using a holophone, saved from the Axiom, to take a video. 

Mo straightened his jumpsuit, trying to not to blush angrily. 

“Buzz off, you… you…” The words never even formed in his brain. 

“Maybe you and your boyfriend shouldn’t wrestle in the street over a piece of garbage, this isn’t the dark ages.” one of the people laughed, eyeing Wally and Mo. Wally had gotten up, still smiling as he clutched the wrapper in one hand.

“We aren’t, you know, we are not,” Mo stammered, fuming with rage, “oh never mind. Just go. Night is coming and I’d rather not have to clean the mess the wolves make out of you.” Mo snarled, picking up his broom and tipping his small, boxy hat to them. The group scurried off, still laughing and whispering about the two. 

“What the hell, Wallace!” Mo snapped at Wally, his face contorted with frustration, “You are an embarrassing twat!” Mo turned from the trashman, who had walked back to his wagon he left on the other side of the road, “You absolute idiot!”

“Ok!” Wally smiled, seeming to not understand a word that Mo was saying, offensive or not. He started walking off with the small, rusting wagon, that was filled with foodstuffs and other items the man would trade at the marketplace. Mo only shook his head, frustrated.

“If only he knew about Eve,” Mo smirked, remembering something he saw a few weeks ago. It was a bright day, full of splendor. The sea was nice and placid, not wracked with storms and waves. He was cleaning at a little cafe down the street, a simple easy job for him. That’s when he saw Eve, Wally’s wife, walk in with another ‘EVE Probe” by the name of Ruth. The two were really touchy and soft with each other, even exchanging pecks on the cheek. Mo was slightly shocked, but he did have to realize that Eve and Ruth would be a lot better couple than Eve and that little attention whore Wally was. 

“He’s sure gonna have a surprise soon, that isn’t a secret that can be kept forever.” Mo laughed to himself. He walked off to his place, a smile on his face. He walked into the door of his small home, modern, but small. He quickly changed into his Axiom issued uniform, the only decent, stylish outfit he had. Large, sharp shoulders and balloon pants made him look more official, more elite. It was something Mo craved to be. An elite, a king of sorts. 

He grabbed an older looking umbrella out of a basket by his door, alongside a small pistol he traded out for his larger one he kept during the day. A clunky, uncivilized weapon at day, a stylish, small but deadly one for night. 

You see, Mo did have fun. A lot of fun to be exact. Every night, he would spend a few hours at a little club nearby, the ‘Ikea’ to be exact. It was a little pale blue building with yellow accents, that for some reason stood throughout all those years. 

Inside, many people would be dancing, singing, drinking and eating, forgetting about the dangers outside and the hardships of day to day life. Mo would do the same. Well, he would do it in a more civilized way. 

He headed on his way, a long walk but a welcome one. He kept his umbrella over his head, and his feet out of puddles that formed on that rainy night. He kept his pistol in a quick draw holster, just in case of the wolves. A thirty minute walk, sometimes joined with other people on their way to home or the Ikea. 

Mo finally got there, after a long, quiet walk. No wolves this time. It was a good night. He walked into the doors and was greeted by the smells of fresh food and drink, mostly wines and beers taken from the storages of the Axiom. Some people did learn how to make strong drinks, and traded them for a living. And those were the people who were living it up. 

Mo sat at his normal place, a tall bar stool at the makeshift bar that was set up. He ordered a glass of whiskey and handed the bartender a strip of wolf leather for payment. It was hard to come by, since the wolves were hard to kill. But the leather was tough and resilient, and a yard of that stuff could get you a house. 

Mo sipped at his drink, trying to look dignified above the racket and noise of everything else. Some people were getting violently drunk already, yelling loudly about whatever came to mind, mostly gibberish. 

Mo didn’t mind. He just tuned it out. A stun gun a few years back had warned the other patrons of the club not to mess with the tiny janitor. Mo liked to have that kind of respect, a kind of respect he never had on the Axiom, fear. 

The night was going smoothly, the warm wash of whiskey heating Mo’s veins and making him feel a little better. 

That was until a certain someone walked into the club, looking like a drowned rat. 

“Wallace?” 


	2. Whiskey with Bay Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down, broh
> 
> (been watching too much Rick and Morty)

That son of a bitch limped into the club looking as if he’d been hit by a truck. Mo, for some reason, jumped out of his seat and ran to the man, half concerned-half annoyed. He grabbed Wally’s wrist and pulled him out of the rain, to a back room that was uninhabited. He quickly turned on a light, a little lightbulb with a string. The warm light bathed the small boxy room in light oranges and flavorful reds, adding a sense of coziness to the room. 

“Mah, mah, mah… Evah!” Wally cryed out, tears falling from his large brown eyes.

“Ah, so finally he figured out something.” Mo mumbled to himself, trying to shake off the feeling that he needed to comfort Wally. 

“She’s datin’ Ruth! I thought she loved me!” Wally sobbed, trying to keep his round goggles from falling off his head. Mo sighed, irritated that the trashman was going to mess up his night.

“Shut up, Wallace! You should have seen the signs from miles away, ever since you got off that blasted Axiom!” Mo hissed, as he grabbed Wally by the waist. But all that did was make Wally cry harder. 

“What am I gonna do now? She kicked me outta the house and… and…” He winced as he grabbed his side, tears running down his tan, dirty cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Mo asked, wondering what the hell was going on. His wonder grew into sickened fear when Wally began to spit up blood. He was coughing hard, splattering blood onto Mo’s pristine white shirt. 

“Wolf… bit…” Wally collapsed onto Mo, who instantly panicked. He laid the man down on the floor, still remembering the awful time on the Axiom he cleaned up Wally up a bit after Auto’s assault on the trashman. Mo took that dirty trench coat off of Wally, and looked at the side that Wally was still clutching gingerly. Blood coursed through his fingers, soaking his off-white shirt. 

“Holy shit,” Mo hissed, moving Wally’s hand away from the wound, “This is a deep one! I need some help!” Mo called out, his voice pleading, “This man is dying!” 

No one came to his aid. 

“Drunk ass dipshits,” Mo applied more pressure to Wallaces wound, “Too hosh posh to help out anyone.” He used a free hand to open up the door and call out again for help, this time actually getting a response. A man ran up to them, looking concerned. He quickly grabbed some towels when he saw the full extent of the problem.

“Lemme guess, wolf bite?” the man asked, Mo, who grabbed a few towels out of another persons hands.

“Wolf bite.” Mo didn’t even look up at the two men who were helping him out. 

“Looks really deep,”

“Yes. No kidding.” Mo rolled his eyes, adding more pressure to the wound. Blood was filling the towels, making Mo feel sick to his stomach. 

“Why am I even helping him?” Mo asked himself, quietly, “I don’t even like-”

“Is this guy your boyfriend of something?” one of the guys asked, looking back and forth at Mo and Wally. 

“No! He’s just an embarrassing coworker!” Mo shouted, “Now please, help me instead of asking questions! Get a stretcher or something!” The man ran off, leaving Mo, Wally, and the other guy who was feeling for Wally’s pulse in his neck. 

“His pulse is a little below normal,” the man noted to himself, but the comment was still audible to Mo.

“How do you even know all that medical stuff?” mo asked, confused. Even though most of the population had changed from fatasses, he still viewed them as dumbasses. 

“Uh, I read. I work at the hospital?” The man rolled his eyes at the little man. 

“Oh right, you mean the ‘hospital’ that is really just the Axiom?” Mo asked, a little spark of hope. The smartest people work there, and it was a better place to go than the local hospital.

“Yes.” He sighed, trying to listen to Wally’s heart, “Now please, I may be off duty, but I’m still a doctor! I can save your boyfriend. Now just let me listen,” the man went back to placing his ear on Wally’s chest, listening to his breathing and his heartbeat. “He’s going into shock.” the man popped up and grabbed Wally, holding him in the bridal position. 

By the time they stepped out of the room, the club was wondering what was going on. But as the occupants saw the bleeding man, they cleared a way to the man trying to push through with a hover stretcher. 

“We need to get him to the Axiom,” one of the men said, pushing Wally away. 

“Aren't you his friend or something?” a man leaned down to mo, who was trying to sneak away back to his barstool.

“Nah, he’s just a coworker.” Mo shook his head, pushing away from the man. “Can’t I just have a good night for once?” He quickly drained the rest of his glass as he hopped onto his barstool, shaking his head at the commotion. 

Morning came, and there was no news about Wallace. Besides, Mo acted like he didn’t care. He kept drinking at the Ikea until the sun was up, and he went home, changed out of his outfit and began to wash it in a basin. The blood spatter was already fully dried on, crisp copper stains standing out on the snow white lapel of his suit. The janitor got busy, taking a sponge and cleaning liquids and scrubbed, bubbles forming in the basin and the outfit. 

“Poor bastard.” Mo mumbled to himself, cleaning the dried blood spatter off of his crisp white suit. He paused for a second, dropping the sponge into the basin, “Did I just, was I being, affectionent?” he shook his head angrily, grabbing the sponge back out of the basin. “What is wrong with me?” Mo scrubbed the shirt harder, angry at himself, the world, Wallace, everything. 

A knock then sounded at his door, early. Way too early for a sane person to be up. But Mo wasn’t a sane person at all. Mo walked to the door, trying to fix his composure before he opened the door. He took a deep breath, hoping he didn’t look too drunk. He still felt the warm flush of whisky in his cheeks and chest, warming him on the cold, drizzly morning. His eyes ached, his head was starting to pound. But he pushed that all aside and opened the door. 

“Eve?”

**Author's Note:**

> Uhhhh I just wanted to show ya'll some notes I made, 'cause what's better than seeing a writers process? (It's just some notes i made before writing this stuff):
> 
> Set Three Years after Axium touches down on Earth.  
Humans? Would be cute  
Wall-e and Eve break up, Wall-E goes to Mo just as any sad ex does oof.  
The two start to fall in love (I’m a fanfic writer, how is this not obvious)  
Good Omens references pls?  
Enemies to Friends to Lovers  
Wind Turbines!


End file.
